Postcards from New York
by Azkabella
Summary: Whouffle AU: Amy and Rory invite the Doctor and Clara to spend the holidays with them in New York, and everyone learns that transatlantic bridges take a long time to mend. A sequel of sorts to The IT Guy.
1. Part I

**PART ONE**

Their flat had central heating, but even at night, Clara found herself curling against his side to keep warm. The Doctor usually slept flat on his back with his limbs completely stretched out, save for the one arm raised over his head. It was always the arm closest to her, and Clara liked to think that even in his sleep, he was inviting her curl up beside him. The best moments were when she'd settle against him with her head on his chest and he would his arm wrap around her shoulders while still asleep. They often drifted apart before they woke up in the morning, but Clara lived for those moments in the night when they would find each other and settle into each other's warmth.

Clara awoke alone that morning, and even though the Doctor was often out of bed before she was, she had this sinking feeling that something was wrong.

She poked her head out of the bedroom door and spotted him in the kitchen next to the stove, still in his white t-shirt and sweatpants. Clara smiled tiredly at him as she entered the kitchen and he smiled tightly back, grinning a little broader when he took a second look at her.

"Nice shirt."

Clara looked down at the maroon shirt that was swallowing her and laughed lightly; it was one of his t-shirts from uni. "I rue the day you start wearing my clothes to bed."

"I don't know, I think I'd look really good in that lacy nightgown of yours."

Clara wrapped her arms around him and grinned against his neck as she stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss against his skin. "Good morning."

"Morning."

"Everything alright?"

"Fine. Just making tea."

Clara kept her arms looped around him and stared at the kettle bubbling on the stove. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's tea."

She frowned up at him. The Doctor sighed and scratched the side of his face with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her waist. "I got a call from Amy last night."

"Oh." Clara hadn't expected that. "Wow. Did you answer?"

The kettle whistled. The Doctor disentangled his arms from hers and removed the kettle from the burner before answering. "Yes."

"And how was it?"

He had his back to her, but Clara could tell he was smiling. "Good," he replied, fetching the milk from the fridge. "She um, she invited me to New York for Christmas."

"She what? Really?" Clara squeaked with surprise.

The last time the Doctor had mentioned any contact with his old friend was almost a year ago at Christmas. He talked about her all the time, but always in the past tense. _Yeah, Amy and I used to go to this place all the time,_ or _Amy could never eat them because she's allergic to nuts._

"Yeah," he replied, sounding happy. "She invited you as well."

"Really?" Clara couldn't help but feel flattered. "She doesn't even know me."

"But she knows that you and I together, although I told her that you'd probably want to spend Christmas at your father's again this year."

The Doctor poured her a cup of hot tea with just the right amount of milk and handed it to her. Clara accepted it silently with a slight frown; her brain was struggling to make sense of all of this news so soon after waking up.

"So are you going to go?" she asked.

He leaned against the refrigerator and crossed his arms. "I don't know. It's been so long… Amy always tried to keep in touch, but I just…" He shook his head. He didn't need to drudge up his past with Amy; Clara knew it well enough. "Would you want to go, if I did?" he asked, his voice lifting with hope.

Clara hugged the mug of tea to her chest and smiled up at him as she weighed the options in her head. "Yes."

A broad grin spread across his face. "Really? You wouldn't miss your family?"

"Doctor, you spent Christmas with my family last year. I think you know that's enough family for six Christmases."

She yelped with surprise as the Doctor took the mug from her hands and pulled her into a firm hug. Clara giggled against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment they just stayed like that.

"Christmas in New York, eh?" she said. "You know, I've never been to America before."

The Doctor pulled back and beamed at her. "Oh, you're gonna love it."

He talked a lot about their trip to New York over the next few weeks, but never said a word about Amy and Rory. Clara didn't know if she was reading into things, or if he was a lot more anxious about seeing them again than he let on and didn't feel like talking about it. She was fairly certain it was the latter, but he never took well to her pushing him. So she played along.

"We can go ice skating in Central Park! Ooh, and at Rockefeller Center too. Do you like ice skating, Clara?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she replied distractedly as she reread the same line in one of her students' exam papers for what felt like the fifth time. "Can't remember if I'm any good at it or not. It's been a while."

"I'm sure you're marvellous. Ooh, and since we're staying for New Year's, maybe we can talk Amy and Rory into going to Times Square to watch the ball drop."

Clara grinned, her ears perking at the mention of their names. "That sounds fun. Are they looking forward to playing tour guides while we're there?"

"I'd better hope so. Although if they're not, I'll be all the tour guide you need," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows before bending down to nuzzle her cheek.

Clara giggled and pulled away. "I need to finish grading these!"

"What, right now?" he pouted, kissing her neck.

She nodded. "I'm supposed to hand them back in tomorrow."

He hummed against her neck before leaning over her shoulder to look at the stack of papers on the kitchen table. "Right, well—that one's got horrible penmanship, so marks off for that. This one's misspelled Parliament—I mean, _really. _Ooh, look at this one… High marks for the little hearts over her i's."

Clara chuckled. "I can't grade them solely on spelling and penmanship."

"But you would finish much more quickly if you did."

She turned and he grinned at her as she met his eyes. "I could always put it off for another half hour or so…" she conceded.

"Ooh, 'or so,'" the Doctor replied brightly. "That's promising."

Clara stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, and almost immediately the Doctor swept her into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom.

She awoke sometime around two in the morning with the realisation that she'd forgotten to finish grading her exams. When the Doctor got up at six to go for his morning run, he found her passed out at the kitchen table with all but two papers graded. She was cranky all morning at work, so when he called her around lunch time, she gave him an earful.

"Come on, you're not _really_ mad," he said with that oozing confidence of his. "I'm sure I more than made up for it."

Clara rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?"

"Oi!"

She chuckled into the receiver. "Maybe you can make up for it with dinner tonight. I gotta go."

"Love you," he said.

Clara grinned. "Love you, too."

"Now boarding first class passengers on flight 1506 to New York John F. Kennedy Airport."

"That's us," the Doctor said, practically shooting out of his seat before grabbing his and Clara's bags.

Clara pulled their tickets from her handbag and handed his to him just as they arrived at the scanner.

"Thank you, Mr Saxon. Have a nice flight."

Clara smiled and accepted her boarding pass when it was handed back to her. She liked hearing the Doctor's name acknowledged, even by complete strangers. She was surprised he'd told the airline his real name, but the Doctor said he drew the line at lying to the government. "Name on the ticket has to match the name on the passport," he reminded her as they took their seats.

"Can I get you both something to drink?" the flight attended asked as they buckled their seatbelts.

"Oh!" Clara replied, grinning. She'd never flown first class before. "I'll have a glass of red wine, please."

"And you, sir?"

"Same," he replied, not looking away from the window.

Clara's eyes widened. "You don't like wine."

"Who said?" he replied irritably, turning to look at her. "Oh… right. Scotch on the rocks, please. Thanks."

The flight attendant disappeared around the corner to fetch their drinks and Clara turned to the Doctor. "You OK?"

"I don't like flying."

"I thought you loved flying. You used to tell me you wanted to be an airline pilot when you were younger."

"Yeah, well, that was before I experienced turbulence. Thank you," he said with a tight grin to the flight attendant who handed them both their drinks.

The Doctor took a large swig of scotch and made a face; Clara was barely able to bite back her amusement.

"God, what did she put in this thing?" he asked, his eyes almost watering.

"Scotch."

"Ah, right. That'll wake you up."

"You talk to Amy last night?" Clara asked after a brief pause.

"Yeah."

"Everything alright?"

He shrugged lightly and rubbed his thumb across the condensation forming on his glass. "Seems to be."

Clara placed her hand on his arm and smiled when he looked at her. "That's good, isn't it?"

His eyes locked with hers and for an absurd moment, Clara feared he might burst into tears. And then he smiled. "Yeah, I reckon it is."

Going through customs was a nightmare, but once they'd fetched their bags from the carousel, they managed to score a spot near the front of the line for taxis.

"Bond and Warren in Brooklyn, please," the Doctor told the cabbie as they buckled their seatbelts.

Clara hadn't slept a wink on the flight, both from excitement and nerves, and even though it was only half past midnight back in London, she could barely keep her eyes open during the ride to Amy and Rory's. Her head lolled against the car window and moments later she felt the Doctor's fingers lace through hers.

"You gonna make it?"

She smiled but didn't open her eyes. "You might have to carry me inside and introduce me as your comatose girlfriend."

"Better not. They might think you're dating me against your will."

Clara squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Well, we can't have that." She sat up and met his eyes. "You nervous?"

"No. Yes? Terribly, I think." His leg was bouncing up and down as they turned another corner. "Ah, I think this is it."

The Doctor paid the cab driver and Clara stepped out onto the pavement, her eyes rising to the long row of attached buildings running alongside the narrow road. The cabbie had just driven off when the door to the nearest building opened and a tall woman with bright red hair emerged at the top of the steps.

"Doctor?"

"Amy."

Clara had never seen such long legs in her life. That was all she could think of as the woman bounced down the steps with the grace of a gazelle before launching herself at the Doctor in a hug that could crush ribs. She smiled as the two laughed wetly into each other's shoulders. After hearing so much about the rift between them, Clara was glad to see them have a happy reunion.

"They're always like that," a man muttered into her ear, and Clara nearly jumped into the road in alarm.

His eyes were apologetic. "Sorry," he said. "Rory," he added, pointing to his chest. "You must be Clara."

"Yes, hi," she said with a smile, holding out her hand only to have her attention drawn to the couple behind her.

"Still wearing the bow tie, I see?"

"Yeah. Bow ties are cool," the Doctor replied, fiddling with his tie.

"Clara, I'm sorry!" Amy called as she sniffed tearfully. "It's so nice to meet you. The Doctor's said very nice things."

"He better have," Clara said with a grin as Amy shook her hand. The two girls laughed and gave each other a friendly hug before Rory suggested they all go inside.

Clara watched the Doctor and Rory's eyes meet and for a moment, she thought one of them was going to punch the other, but then they grinned and hugged each other almost as tightly as he and Amy had.

"Good to see you, man," Rory said as they pulled apart.

The Doctor beamed at everyone. "Well, alright. Look at you both, living in New York."

Rory and Amy insisted on carrying their bags upstairs, although they had to put up a fight with the Doctor, who resisted as he usually did when someone went out of their way to help him.

Amy and Rory lived in a small two bedroom flat with exposed brick walls in the living room and hardwood floors. Clara wondered if all of the Doctors friends were rolling in money, and what it was she was doing wrong.

"So Amy, what is it you and Rory do?" Clara asked.

"Oh, Doctor!" Amy chided. "Haven't you told her _anything_ about us?"

"I've told her plenty!" the Doctor replied defensively. "Jobs are just so boring."

"Rory's a nurse at Beth Israel in the city," Amy said as she took their coats and hung them up by the door.

"That's a hospital," Rory clarified.

"And I'm a writer for the _Brooklyn Daily Eagle_."

"That's a newspaper," Rory added.

"Yes, thank you, Rory. No one could have figured that out on their own," Amy quipped.

Everyone stood in the foyer in silence until Rory asked, "Anyone want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?"

"Some tea would be lovely," Clara replied.

"I'll make it," Amy chimed in when Rory moved towards the kitchen. "Why don't you and the Doctor put the bags in the guest room and give us girls some time to chat."

Amy smiled at Clara, who felt the Doctor's questioning eyes on her. "You heard the woman," Clara said, waving the boys off.

As the Doctor and Rory scuttled around the corner, Clara followed Amy into the kitchen where she watched the taller woman pull out a very familiar box of tea.

"Ah, that's the Doctor's favourite."

Amy chuckled and removed the plastic wrapper. "Yeah, Rory and I made sure to stock up before he arrived. Found about six boxes of jammy dodgers in a shop on the East Side, too, so he won't be without his nibbles."

Amy plugged in the kettle and pressed the button, then leaned against the counter to face Clara.

"This your first time in America?"

"Yeah. Always wanted to come. Never really had the opportunity."

"Well, we're glad you're here. Something tells me if it weren't for you, the Doctor wouldn't have come to see us at all."

Clara's gaze softened. "I don't think that's true…"

Amy laughed uncomfortably and crossed her arms over her chest, like she was hugging herself. "Maybe not, but he's ignored nearly all of my calls and letters until now."

"He's missed you the entire time, though," Clara said. "He's even said it to me outright, but he never needed to."

Amy sniffed and laughed tearfully. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "Things got so weird after River… And then we came here… I never thought we'd see him again, to be perfectly honest."

Clara smiled reassuringly. "He does have that effect."

Amy laughed.

"How did you all meet, anyway?" Clara asked.

Amy laughed again, this time with genuine amusement. "Oh, he should be here for this story. Doctor! Rory!"

"Whaaat?" they both called back irritably.

The girls' eyes met. "Do you think we interrupted something?" Clara asked.

The kettle light went off just as Rory and the Doctor returned to the main room, and Amy busied herself preparing the tea and nodded to Rory, "Second cupboard."

"Oh, right," Rory said, opening the cupboard in question and pulling out a pack of jammie dodgers.

The Doctor grinned like a school boy. "Clara, look!" he said.

She grinned—they all did—and then they all sat around the kitchen table sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits while Amy and the Doctor recounted the night they first met.


	2. Part II

**A/N**: Happy New Year, whoufflepuffs! Sorry for the delay in the second installment. **And just to clarify since I didn't properly establish this in the first part - Yes, this ****_definitely_**** takes place before the epilogue of The IT Guy!**

* * *

"So anyway," Amy continued after a long interruption from the Doctor. "He drives his car straight off the road into the back garden, smashes into our shed, and nearly wakes up the entire village banging on the horn while he tries to get out of the car."

Clara bowed her head and covered her eyes with secondhand embarrassment. "He didn't."

The Doctor scowled. Rory took one look at the Doctor's face and nearly choked on a biscuit.

"Don't ever get into a car with him, whatever you do," Amy insisted.

"Oi! The power steering malfunctioned," the Doctor insisted defensively as he mimed driving a steering wheel. "And besides, Clara and I drove to Blackpool last Christmas. I'm a good driver, aren't I, Clara?"

Clara smiled brightly and looked between him and Amy, but didn't say a word. Rory cackled.

The Doctor's shoulders slumped and he frowned at them all. "Thanks, Clara. Thanks a lot."

"What happened next?" Clara asked Amy, nudging the Doctor's leg fondly beneath the table.

"Well, he was pretty beat up, so I took him to the hospital to get his head looked at—it was fine, by the way, I just thought he must have a head injury because he was acting completely barmy—and guess who happened to be on the shift in the A&E?"

"Rory!" Clara answered gleefully.

Rory shrugged and sipped his tea.

"I let him stay at my place for the night since his car was a wreck and he was doped up on pain killers," Amy continued. "I woke up at two in the morning to find him raiding the refrigerator for fish fingers and custard."

"Eww, you ate them together?" Clara said with disgust.

"It was delicious, if I remember," the Doctor replied simply.

"You were high on painkillers," Rory clarified.

Amy shrugged, laughing. "I dunno, it wasn't so bad."

When their laughter ebbed, Rory glanced between Clara and the Doctor and asked, "So, what about you two?"

"Hmm?" said Clara.

"How did you meet?"

The Doctor met her eyes and they both smiled. "Um, well, that's a tricky one to answer."

"We've got to pick one," said the Doctor, "otherwise we're going to have to keep doing this."

"Technically, the first time we met was… about two years ago, actually. Not long after Christmas."

Rory and Amy exchanged a meaningful glance. That had been the first Christmas after they'd left London.

"We can skip that one," Clara offered, laughing nervously.

The Doctor smiled. "Yeah, well, you only want to because you didn't remember me."

"You were practically in disguise!" she teased in return, but the humour felt off. It suddenly felt as if River were in the room with them. Clara hastened the story along. "I started working for TARDIS industries last August, and less than a month in, my computer froze, and I was advised to call 'The Doctor'."

Clara grinned fondly at the memory.

"Yeah, and then she fell madly in love with me, and the rest is history," the Doctor said with a cheeky grin.

Clara poked him in the leg with her boot and tried to shoot him a sour look, but she felt herself grinning.

"She saved my life, you know," the Doctor added proudly to Rory and Amy. "Big ol' bucket of paste fell from some scaffolding and she knocked me out of the way before it could crack my head open."

"Yeah," Clara interjected. "And then he fell madly in love with me, and the rest is history."

"Yeah, pretty much," he agreed with a grin before sipping the last of his tea.

Amy smiled at them both and then stood. "It's been a long trip. I bet you're both tired. Rory, did you put the sheets on the guest bed?"

"What do you think we were doing while you two were out here chatting about which one of us is handsomer?" Rory quipped dryly.

Amy feigned a gasp. "That reminds me, the verdict's still out. Care to do the washing up?"

Rory rolled his eyes, but stood from the table. "Yeah, yeah."

Clara offered to help Rory while Amy and the Doctor drifted into the living room to examine the Christmas tree. Clara didn't so much as help as she did lean against the counter while Rory rinsed off the cups and plates.

"It's weird," Clara began, her eyes on the Doctor and Amy. "I feel like I know you both already."

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's mentioned you both quite a lot, but really it's seeing him with you." Clara smiled. "The more playful side of his personality comes out."

"Is there any other side?" Rory joked.

Clara's smile turned sad. "There's lots of sides."

Rory nodded and turned off the sink. "Amy's different with him here, too."

"Good different?" she asked hopefully. Clara had this nagging feeling that Rory wasn't as happy to see the Doctor as he let on.

"I dunno yet," Rory replied honestly, turning to Clara and crossing his arms over his chest. "She seems to like you, though, so that's good."

"Really? Good. I want her to like me. What about you?"

"Clara, I'm a married man."

His tone made it difficult for Clara to realise he was kidding, and for a horrifying moment, she thought he was serious. Her subsequent laughter drew Amy and the Doctor back into the kitchen, the pair of them looking slightly miffed that their respective partners were enjoying themselves outside of their company.

* * *

Clara turned off the light as they both crawled into bed later that evening.

"So?" she asked, sliding under the sheets.

"So?" the Doctor replied, fluffing his pillow.

Clara curled on her side and propped her head up. "Good to see your friends again?"

He sank into his pillow and stared at the ceiling for a moment, but she could see him smiling in the dark. "Yeah."

Clara sighed happily but then frowned. "We're on the wrong side of the bed."

"Oh. We are…" He chuckled. "Well, we are in America."

Clara tugged on his arm and the Doctor grunted tiredly in protest before scooting to her side of the bed. Clara crawled over him and was barely able to contain a squeal of surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down for a brief kiss.

"Thanks for coming with me," he said quietly.

"You're very welcome," Clara replied with a grin. She kissed him again, this time for a bit longer, and then rolled onto her side of the bed. "Have we made any plans for tomorrow?"

"Amy wants to take us out for brunch."

"Ooh, _brunch. _That's so very New York."

"Yeah, it also means we can have a bit of a lie in."

Clara snuggled against his side. "Mmm, I think I'm liking Christmas in New York."

The Doctor wrapped his arm around her and held her close. Clara settled her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed up and down the bare skin of her arm.

"What do you think of them?" he asked after a lengthy silence. "Rory and Amy."

"They're really nice," she replied. "I can see a lot of you in them."

"Yeah?"

"Or a lot of them in you… or both."

"Like how?"

"The way you make fun of each other," she said, grinning. "And you all overreact the same way when you drop something, and then look up and pretend like nothing happened. Which—by the way—you're all terribly clumsy."

He chuckled. "Yeah. So sorry you're stuck with all of these people who lack your natural grace and elegance."

"Shut up," she replied with a poorly suppressed grin, poking him in the ribs.

They laid in silence for a long time. Clara felt herself drifting off to sleep, but before the fog of slumber grew too thick, she shifted her head against his shoulder and muttered, "G'night, love."

"Night."

* * *

The light was still on in the room across the hall as Rory and Amy settled in for the evening.

"Have you seen my phone charger?" Rory asked, turning in a circle by the bed as his eyes roamed the room.

"Did you move it from its usual spot?" Amy asked from her spot by the dresser where she was rubbing the last of her moisturiser into her skin.

"No, but it's wandered off. Did you use it?"

"No, why would—Oh, yeah. I did." Amy winced guiltily. "I had it in the writing room this morning before we set the bed up."

"The bed the Doctor and Clara are in now?" Rory replied dully.

Amy nodded. Rory groaned.

"Just go in there and get it," Amy suggested.

"_You_ go in there and get it," Rory groused. "What if they're… You know."

Amy quirked an eyebrow as Rory made an interesting gesture with his hands. "What is that even supposed to be?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Rory lowered his hands and shot her an impatient look. "What if they're _naked_," he said, mouthing the last word.

"Oh my god, Rory! They're not going to be naked! You and I don't just get naked whenever we're visiting someone else's house."

"We did that one time," he pointed out.

Amy bit her lip and grinned. "Well, yeah."

"You go get it," Rory insisted.

"No! I'm not going into their bedroom. What if they're asleep?"

"Then they won't notice you."

"What if I wake them up?"

"Then… they'll wake up."

Amy frowned at him.

"Why don't I just use _your_ charger?" he asked with a sigh.

"Why do you think I was using yours this morning? I lost mine."

Rory groaned in aggravation. Amy frowned thoughtfully.

"Do you think they'll be naked?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know, Amy," Rory sighed. "With River there was always a 50/50 chance."

Amy half-laughed. It still wasn't easy to talk about River. Acknowledging that she was gone was just as bad as pretending she was still here.

"What do you think of her?" she asked, sitting on the edge of their bed as Rory fiddled with his phone.

"Hmm? Oh, Clara? She's nice, yeah."

"Does she seem like she's maybe _too_ nice?"

Rory glanced over at his wife. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I dunno, maybe she's not right for him," Amy pondered aloud, hugging her pillow to her chest. "She's so different."

"From him? Or River?"

Amy's frown was all the answer he needed. Sighing in understanding, Rory dropped his phone onto the nightstand and crawled onto the bed next to Amy so he could wrap his arm around her.

"No one can replace River, you know."

"I know that!" Amy retorted crossly.

"Shh, I know, but just—Don't blame Clara for being different. She's nice. Funny. Seems like she takes good care of him."

Amy narrowed her eyes at her husband's aloof tone as he contemplated the Doctor's new girlfriend. "And rather pretty too, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah. I mean—no!" Rory added defensively, his eyes as wide as a rabbit's. "_I _don't think she's pretty. I mean, she's not ugly. Far from ugly, in fact. Not _too_ far, though. I-I mean… _You…_"

Amy grinned broadly and pecked him on the lips. Rory sighed indignantly but grinned.

"I really hate you sometimes, you know."

"Yeah," Amy replied, completely chuffed. "I know."

* * *

The Doctor awoke several times during the night. What little he could remember of his dreams was disturbing, all composed of horrific emotions juxtaposed against painful memories and realised fears. Clara was curled up on her side facing him, still sound asleep the second time he woke, and for a while the Doctor just stared at her sleeping features and took comfort in seeing her there beside him.

He really loved her. It was painfully obvious throughout the day, but when they were alone and she wasn't paying him any attention, all he could think about was how irrevocably and overwhelmingly in love with her he was. Admitting this made him feel like a terrible narcissist, but partly what he loved about Clara was how she made him feel about himself. The Doctor felt like a happier, cleverer, better looking man whenever she was around, or even when he was just thinking about her.

He needed that now, that boost in confidence and self-esteem, because for the last two years, anything related to Amy and Rory had buried him in a heap of self-loathing and regret. The Doctor hated how their relationship had been tainted by such negativity, but they were so deeply tied to his memories of River, which were also forever stained by sorrow.

He brushed Clara's hair away from her face and she inhaled sharply and stirred. "Whatimisi'?" she mumbled, but the Doctor shushed her softly.

"It's still night time, love. Go back to sleep."

Clara groaned into her pillow and readily acquiesced. The Doctor then kissed her softly on the lips before rising from the bed and wandering about in the kitchen.

He trudged around the corner with an enormous yawn, and upon entering the kitchen, he was surprised to find Rory standing next to the sink with a glass of water.

"Hey," the Doctor greeted simply, scratching the side of his face. "Can't sleep?"

Rory shook his head. "I'm like an infant; I can only sleep for a few hours at a time. You?"

The Doctor pointed to his face and nodded, indicating that he was likewise afflicted. Rory didn't even ask before pulling another glass from the cupboard and filling it with water for the Doctor.

"Cheers. Amy still asleep?" the Doctor asked before sucking down three large gulps of water.

"Yeah, she sleeps like the dead. I… Sorry," Rory added with a grimace. "Poor choice of words."

The Doctor hadn't even taken notice, but he realised they could only avoid the elephant in the room for so long. "It's been two years, Rory."

"Is that how long it takes for you to move on?"

Rory's words felt like a blow to his chest, but they were followed by an immediate apology.

"God, I'm so sorry. It's late…" Rory insisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Doctor shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he considered his next words. "I've done my grieving, Rory. I'm _still_ grieving. Every day I miss her, and it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that that would never go away."

Rory met the Doctor's eyes and nodded soberly. "I know."

"But I do want to move on," he admitted, even though saying those words felt like a wretched betrayal of River's memory. "Because there has to be more to life than this endless grief."

Rory continued to nod. "No, I know. I do. I'm sorry. It's just hard… Amy still isn't…" He bowed his head. "She's still not coping well, I don't think. She's… I don't know. I think she's happy here, but she and River… you know how close they were. And Amy had never experienced death like that before. I mean, all of her grandparents are still alive."

The Doctor smiled tightly. "It's not much better when you're used to everyone dying."

Rory bowed his head. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Rory, as grateful as I am, I think it'll be best for everyone if we all stop being sorry." The Doctor shrugged. "Or that's all we'll ever be."

Rory looked up at him with an incredulous smile. "Never thought I'd hear those words coming from you."

The Doctor chuckled into his water glass. "Nor did I."


	3. Part III

**Author's Notes**: Thank you all for your kind responses to the previous installments! You guys are the best. Just FYI, this part ends on a mellow note, but Part Four should follow shortly!

* * *

**Part Three**

The Doctor and Clara went to brunch with Amy the next morning. The restaurant was small and crowded, but it smelled like baked ham and coffee and all of the patrons were laughing happily all around them. The portion sizes were so large that they could barely finish what was on their plates, except for the Doctor, who scavenged bites from Amy's and Clara's plates while they continued chatting.

Their conversation had been pretty topical so far: their plans for the week, old memories that made the Doctor and Amy laugh like children, and then some friendly chatting about their respective jobs. Amy really liked that Clara was a teacher, and they talked a bit about some of her students, specifically one boy who was so naturally funny that he provided a lot of fodder for stories. Clara then mentioned one of her co-workers and the Doctor muttered a scathing remark about him that earned a raised eyebrow from both Amy and Clara.

"Ooh, someone's jealous," Amy chortled. "I take it Mr Blackwell's a hottie?" she teased, her accent wrapping thickly around the last word.

"No," Clara insisted with a roll of her eyes. "He's just nice."

"Yeah, nice and short," the Doctor retorted. "Isn't he about your height, love?"

Clara pinched the back of the Doctor's arm and he stifled a cry of pain.

"Nothing wrong with being short," she insisted in a warning tone.

"I never took you for the jealous type," Amy said to the Doctor.

"I'm not. I'm just teasing," he replied dejectedly as he continued rubbing the back of his arm.

Amy had to go into work after they were finished with brunch. She did most of her writing at home in the room Clara and the Doctor were currently staying in, but she was angling for a promotion to a proper staff writing position at the paper, so she liked to make herself known around the office. Rory had been at work since around seven that morning and didn't get off until seven that evening, which was when they were all planning to meet for dinner.

While their hosts were away at work for the next several hours, the Doctor and Clara embarked on a few tourist excursions into the city. Rory made them promise not to go ice skating without him, something Amy assured them both they wouldn't want to miss.

"He leaps and twirls about like a bloody ice dancer," she told the Doctor and Clara before they parted ways after brunch. "It's almost embarrassing."

The Doctor and Clara rode the subway into the city, an experience that didn't leave Clara too impressed with the state of the trains.

"New York isn't known for its cleanliness," the Doctor reminded her as she spent two minutes scraping gum from the bottom of her shoe.

They started their tour at Battery Park, where they rode the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. It was windy and unbearably cold, but they managed to get a few pictures in front of Lady Liberty where Clara's hair wasn't obscuring her face. They stopped off at one of the dozens of nearby Starbucks cafes for some hot coffee to fortify themselves before venturing further uptown. The Doctor insisted that she had to see Times Square for the first time at night, so they first visited Grand Central Station, where he waited patiently as Clara took a few dozen pictures of the mosaics on the ceiling and the general grandness of the building.

"What's next?" she asked as they stepped back outside. "Empire State Building?"

"We can have a look, but we'll have to get up early tomorrow to get a good spot in line if we want to go up."

He glanced down at Clara, who nodded enthusiastically at the prospect. The Doctor wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, brimming with fondness for her eager enthusiasm. They walked like that all the way up Fifth Avenue until they reached Rockefeller Center. Clara took several pictures of the tree and the skating rink while the Doctor spent the majority of their visit texting on his phone.

"Not as impressed as I am?" she asked, nudging him with her elbow.

"Oh, sorry—I'm just trying to sort out the evening's plans with Amy and Rory."

Clara nodded and said nothing about the frown marring his face. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, just not sure if we can make our reservation if Rory doesn't get off work in time."

"Oh. Well, that's OK. We could always pick something up or eat in."

"I guess so."

Clara reached up and smoothed her gloved fingers across his furrowed brow. The Doctor smiled softly and then tore his gaze away from his phone.

"Let's just have a good time, yeah?" she said.

His grin broadened. "That's the plan, isn't it?"

It had grown dark, so they walked to Time Square so Clara could see the flashing lights and general madness associated with the landmark district of the city. She gaped openly when they came across a man wearing cowboy boots, a Stetson, and not much else while giggling teenage girls wrapped their arms around him for a photo.

"It's below zero!" Clara muttered in a scandalised tone.

The Doctor merely grinned at the man and complimented him on his hat as they passed. Clara was still shaking her head in disbelief when they got back on the subway. "I'm surprised he doesn't freeze to death."

"You should have gotten your picture with him," the Doctor teased. "Checked his temperature."

"Shut up," she said, smacking his chest lightly as the train took off and they held onto each other for support. "I would have thought throwing me at half naked men on the street went against your jealous nature."

"I don't have a jealous nature," the Doctor said as he wrapped his arms snugly about her waist. "Should I?"

Clara bit her lip and grinned up at him before shaking her head. "No."

"Good."

Public displays of affection generally made her nervous, but Clara didn't back away when he bent down to kiss her, nor did she care that everyone around them was either staring or glancing away uncomfortably.

When they arrived back in Brooklyn, they found Amy pacing back in forth in front of the tree as she nervously tapped her phone against her chin.

"You didn't answer your phone," she said crossly. "Rory has to stay at the hospital until midnight."

"Oh no," Clara said. "Well, we can save dinner out for another night."

Amy continued to fidget anxiously as the Doctor removed his scarf and coat. "Could we talk?"

It was clear that she wanted a moment alone with the Doctor. Clara glanced between them uncomfortably, not wanting to interfere but feeling suddenly like a third wheel. The Doctor sighed knowingly and glanced to Clara, who nodded in understanding.

"I could do with a shower, anyway," she said with a smile before squeezing the Doctor's hand and walking towards their bedroom.

She tried not to think too much of it. The Doctor and Amy had years of emotional distance to overcome, but there was something about Amy's behaviour that made Clara feel like she didn't just want to speak to the Doctor alone, but rather specifically without _her_ in the room. Rory had told Clara that Amy liked her, but she was starting to fear that some of the redhead's friendliness was feigned.

During her short walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, Clara overheard a snippet of the Doctor and Amy's conversation that gave her greater cause for worry.

"But you barely know her," Amy practically hissed.

"We've been together a year," the Doctor replied in a hushed tone. "What's really bothering you, Amy?"

Clara closed the door to the bathroom before she heard Amy's response. She stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink and tried to ignore the large bubble she felt growing in her chest, but she now dreaded having to continue laughing and smiling with these people who clearly didn't like her.

After she finished her shower, Clara found the Doctor sitting on the edge of her side of the bed in their room, his back to her as he stared at his phone. He whipped his head towards her when she entered, a nervous smile on his lips as he stood.

"Sorry about that," he said, sticking his phone in his coat pocket. "You have a nice shower?"

Clara nodded vaguely in response. "You and Amy have a nice chat?"

"Yeah," he assured her in a dismissive tone. "Amy's just a nervous hostess. We ordered Indian for dinner. I hope that's OK. I made sure we ordered extra garlic naan."

"Oh, well then it's definitely OK," Clara replied with a faint smile, deciding not to press the issue further.

The Doctor looked at her like he was weighing his options before he stepped forward and pulled her into a passionate embrace. Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and he gripped the fabric of the towel at her waist as he kissed her soundly. She hummed against his lips before pulling away and gazing up at him in surprise.

"What was that for?" she asked, smiling to mask her concern.

"You know I love it when you're all wrapped up in towels," he said with a grin before lightly swatting her backside.

Clara shot him a playful warning look, but grinned and stepped on her tiptoes for another brief kiss. "You're incorrigible."

"So you keep telling me," he replied cheekily as she started getting dressed.

Clara felt awkward all throughout dinner, even though Amy smiled and asked a lot of questions about their day of sightseeing. Clara couldn't help but notice the significant looks she and the Doctor exchanged in the brief pauses in conversation, and worried that her presence was causing an even deeper rift between the old friends. Part of her felt guilty, but the other part of her resented Amy for being so unwelcoming. Still, Clara hoped there was more to that conversation than she'd heard, because despite whatever disapproval she'd provoked in Amy, the Scottish woman was otherwise incredibly likeable and kind.

Once they had finished eating, the Doctor announced he was leaving for his own shower, leaving Amy and Clara in the kitchen alone.

"I'm sorry," Amy said with a sigh once the Doctor was out of earshot. "I know you must have overheard us earlier. I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable."

"It did, but that's OK," Clara said as Amy boxed up their leftovers and put them in the fridge. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Amy assured her. "We just… don't communicate like we used to."

Clara considered leaving the topic at that, but as she fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater and gnawed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, she could feel the question rising out of her before she could stop it. "Is this about River?"

Amy paused. "Yes. And no…"

"I'm sorry," Clara apologised quickly. "I don't mean…"

"No, please—don't apologise," Amy insisted. "That's for me to do. I'm the one whose trying to pretend like everything is the same as it used to be."

Clara felt a great surge of sympathy for Amy in that moment. "It's not all bad, is it? The way things are now."

Amy turned away from Clara slightly, her long red hair falling like a curtain across her face, blocking her expression. "No. But I can't see where I fit anymore."

She spoke in a tone so small and fragile that Clara was reminded of a little girl. It awoke something maternal within her, and before she knew what she was doing, Clara wrapped her arms around Amy and pulled her into a firm hug.

Amy laughed wetly with surprise, but hugged her back. Clara stepped back and smiled bashfully.

"Sorry, I just can't stand seeing you sad. I don't think you ought to be. Because I know he loves you very much."

Amy smiled tightly and tears dripped from her eyes, tears that she quickly wiped from her cheeks. "Yeah, well, same to you."

Clara chuckled and then added in a more playful tone, "Now, what do we think about him?"

As if on cue, the Doctor stepped out of the bathroom with his damp hair a scruffy mess on top of his head and a towel hung loosely about his hips. He doubled back and poked his head around the corner when he heard Amy and Clara laughing and shot them a puzzled look.

"What?"

His frown deepened when they laughed even harder in response.

"_Whaaat_?" he moaned, self-consciously running his fingers through his hair in hopes that his unkempt appearance was the issue.

When they continued laughing, the Doctor turned towards the bedroom with a huff but then smiled to himself as the door closed behind him.

It was good to see his girls getting on.

* * *

Rory was still asleep when they woke up the next morning. Amy informed the Doctor and Amy that his extra shift the night before had ensured that he would have Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day off to celebrate with them.

"By the way, Happy Christmas Eve!" she said to them both, wrapping her arms around the Doctor for a quick hug. "You haven't found your present already, have you?" she asked suspiciously when she pulled away.

"No!" he replied sourly as he stirred the scrambled eggs Amy was cooking. "And I've been looking!"

"I know you have," Amy replied with pursed lips. "I always notice when someone's been rifling through my knickers."

Clara nearly choked on her orange juice. The Doctor and Amy shot her a puzzled look and then Amy's eyes widened comically.

"Lingerie drawer! Oh god, not…"

The Doctor frowned at them both when they started laughing at yet another joke he didn't understand. "Have you two developed some secret language?"

Rory stumbled into the kitchen after they'd finished breakfast, his hair sticking up in several different directions and his eyelids drooping heavily. Amy hopped up from the table to make him some eggs while he poured himself a cup of coffee. Clara watched their silent exchange with a smile: Rory wrapped his arm around Amy's waist in thanks and she leaned into him before pointing at the frying pan questioningly and receiving a nod from Rory, who kissed her on the cheek with gratitude as she cracked the eggs directly on the pan and started frying them. Clara leaned into the Doctor subconsciously as Rory turned to greet them.

"Morning," he said, sipping his coffee. "What have we got planned today?"

Amy, the Doctor, and Clara all exchanged smiles before announcing that they wanted to go to central park and Rory grew very still.

"Excellent," he said with an almost religious fervour.

Clara slowly turned to the Doctor with a poorly suppressed smile of amusement and he grinned at her around a bite of toast.

Things were about to get interesting.


	4. Part IV

**A/N:** I think this part is rated slightly more R than T, but I might be judging that on a rather prudish scale. I think you can handle it.

* * *

"Now remember, if anyone falls down, we contain our laughter to less than five seconds."

Clara snorted as she and the Doctor stepped onto the ice rink in Central Park. "You fall down a lot, don't you?"

"Shut up."

Rory sped ahead of them, his footwork on the ice as impressive as Amy had promised. Clara wasn't too clumsy on the ice, but the bravest thing she tried besides turning was skating backwards, which usually resulted in her standing still on the ice.

The Doctor wasn't as clumsy as she feared he would be, but every now and then he would wobble on a turn or tug a little too hard on her hand and her life would flash before her eyes. Clara heavily considered removing her hand from his to spare herself from a fall, but they were ice skating together in Central Park; the romanticism of the moment had her clinging extra hard to his hand and grinning with the enthusiasm of a child as they circled the rink.

"So how are you liking the city, Clara? A bit different from the movies?" Amy asked on their third tour around the rink.

"Aside from the lack of aliens attacking the city, I'd say it's just like the movies."

"Bit more like a rom com then?" Amy teased.

Clara grinned and found it odd that she was blushing. "Yeah, I suppose. Oh, wow," she said when she saw someone do a double axel in the centre of the rink."

"Oh god, now Rory will start," Amy said with a groan.

"I heard that," Rory said as he zoomed passed them.

"Good!" Amy cried, skating after him.

Clara chuckled at the pair of them as she and the Doctor maintained their position in the steady flow of circling skaters. "They're funny."

"Yeah. They've known each other since they were kids."

"It shows," Clara said with some amusement.

Rory grabbed Amy by the elbows and started spinning them both in circles. Amy's panicked shrieks were likely to be heard on the other side of the park.

"Ooh, that looks like fun," the Doctor said.

"Yeah. Wait—_No_! No, no, no, no, no!" Clara cried when he grabbed both of her hands and started spinning.

The Doctor hadn't even reached a full 180 degrees before he tripped over his own feet and fell with a loud smack onto the ice. Clara bent forward but miraculously managed to stay on her feet despite the iron grip he held on her hands. She did fall to her knees laughing, however, and the Doctor pinched her thigh irritably before reminding her of his five second rule.

"Did you hurt anything?" she asked as her ten second laughter subsided.

"Just my pride," he groused as they both returned their blades to the ice.

Clara brushed the ice from the back of his coat and the Doctor chuckled throatily.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I'm just hoping there's as much ice on your bum as you've found on mine."

Clara slid closer so that their skates were touching and grinned coquettishly up at him. "Well, you could always check."

He grinned against her lips as she stretched upwards for a kiss and Clara squealed with surprise when the Doctor gave her bum a firm squeeze. She smacked him on the shoulder in retaliation and his arms flailed desperately at his sides as he once again lost his balance and fell back down onto the ice.

Clara was still laughing when they all returned their rental skates and venture back out into the park. The Doctor pinched her bum a bit harder once the soles of their shoes had returned to the pavement, and Clara squealed before leaning into him and continuing to cackle at his expense.

"Where to next?" she asked breathlessly before turning to Amy and Rory, who were also walking with their arms wrapped around each other.

"Food," Rory replied simply.

Amy and the Doctor both leaned their heads back and groaned in agreement.

"How do we feel about pizza?" Amy asked.

"Quite strongly," Clara responded with approval.

"Right!" Rory said excitedly. "Ooh, do you think River would like—"

They all stopped walking. Rory flinched like he'd been doused with cold water and stared guiltily at them all before bowing his head.

The Doctor grew tense in Clara's arms and he heaved a quiet sigh as all the air was sucked from their surroundings.

Clara wondered if this was what their entire trip would be like: awkward tension, repressed guilt, and constant reminders that she was just an understudy to the original woman in the Doctor's life. Clara bowed her head and unconsciously loosened her grip around the Doctor's arm, but then something wonderful happened—Amy laughed.

"14th Street or MacDougal?" she asked Rory, who acknowledged her attempt to diffuse the situation with a nod of gratitude.

"14th Street," he replied.

The Doctor laced his gloved fingers through Clara's and smiled tightly at her. Clara tentatively returned the smile as they continued walking through the park, hitting a few of the landmarks before catching the subway at the nearest station.

* * *

They spent the night in watching Christmas movies and preparing some of the food for Christmas dinner. Clara fell asleep in the Doctor's arms in the middle of _A Muppet Christmas Carol _(the Doctor had always preferred the Muppet one), which was when they all decided to turn in for the evening.

Rory was already in bed when Amy finally returned from the bathroom. She crawled under the covers next to him and pecked him on the lips before whispering, "Merry Christmas" as she settled against her pillow.

"Merry Christmas," he replied, rolling onto his side to face her. "I can't stop thinking about earlier."

"In the Park?" Amy asked, although she didn't need a reminder to know what he was talking about. "Don't worry about it."

"I don't even know what happened. I just sort of…"

"You didn't think," Amy said simply. "It's OK. The Doctor didn't seem too upset."

"Yeah, but Clara did."

"Did she?" Amy replied with surprise. "I didn't notice."

"Yeah, well you were too busy worrying about him." Rory tried not to sound bitter, because he wasn't, really. Amy had worried over the Doctor for the past two years from the opposite side of the Atlantic Ocean; he knew nothing would stop her. "I don't want to make her feel like she's not welcome."

"I don't think she feels that way," Amy said. "I hope she doesn't. I'm trying really, really hard."

Rory adopted a puzzled look. "Is it that difficult to make her feel welcome?"

"No, but…" Amy sighed. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to mention anything to anyone, especially not to the Doctor?"

Rory didn't answer right away; he was afraid to. He searched Amy's gaze for signs of danger and then threw caution to the wind and nodded. He wasn't too surprised by the words she whispered into his ear, keeping her voice low in fear that her voice would carry through the walls, but still his eyes widened at the news.

"Oh. Wow. That's… great?"

Amy nodded in agreement, her eyes wide and her lips pressed into a firm line. And then, in a flash, her face crumpled and she started to cry.

"Amy…" Rory said soothingly, pulling his wife into his arms as she wept against his shoulders.

"She's gone, Rory," she sobbed. "River's dead."

Rory released a sigh and rubbed Amy's back. Despite how painful it was to hear his wife sobbing on Christmas Eve, it was almost like a gift. Amy had been holding back her feelings about River's death for over two years now. Moving to New York had helped her distance herself from the event, and there were often times when she said something about River that made it sound like she were still alive. Rory had never been good at talking to her about these things; his way of dealing had been to never talk about it if he could help it. It was that part of his personality that had worried him, because he'd felt that Amy needed someone to talk to about it and he wasn't properly equipped.

* * *

The Doctor was awoken at four in the morning when Clara's phone rang. With a groan, he rolled over and wrapped his arm around her while she answered the call, which was from her father. The Doctor muttered something that was supposed to sound like "Doesn't he know what time it is in New York?" as Clara chuckled softly into the receiver. She wished her dad a Merry Christmas and said the same to her Gran, whom the Doctor could hear chastising her father for waking Clara up so early in the morning.

When she hung up, Clara rolled over to face him and he pushed her hair away from her neck as they both sighed tiredly.

"Honestly," Clara muttered.

She shut her eyes and the Doctor chuckled. He then brought her fingers to his lips for a gentle kiss that prompted her to open her eyes and she smiled when she met his gaze.

"It feels weird to be awake at this hour on Christmas Day," she said.

"I know," he replied. "Although it's nine o'clock back home."

Clara groaned irritably at the reminder of her father's phone call.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I uh, just wanted to check. I worry you might feel…" He searched for the right words. "Out of place."

"Well, we are in a different country."

The Doctor laughed softly. "No, I know, but I mean—"

"I know what you mean."

"Ah. Good. We understand each other." He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles and watched her apprehensively. "Are you… are you happy?"

Clara gave him a puzzled look and propped her head up with her free hand. "What do you mean?"

"With… with me?"

The Doctor was grateful to see an incredulous grin form on her lips. "Of course I am. What makes you think I wouldn't be?"

"Because my life is complicated," he replied. "More complicated than it should be, and I'm sure that's my fault. I don't wish to burden you…"

"Don't be silly," she replied. "Where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he answered quickly. "I just… I worry about you, that's all."

"Not as much as I worry about you," she countered playfully, but there was a sadness to her words. "Are _you_ happy, Doctor?"

He inhaled slowly and splayed her fingers against his cheek and closed his eyes. He couldn't even fathom the words that were required to describe how happy she made him; he feared the day he really needed to. He knew his words would be inadequate.

So he nodded. Clara kissed him and he wrapped his arm around her when she tried to pull away. They grew breathless as their embrace deepened, and when the Doctor broke away to breathe, he lowered his lips to her jaw and neck, peppering her skin with gentle kisses.

Clara rolled onto her back and the Doctor pulled at the neckline of her nightshirt so he could lower his lips further down her chest. He released a shuddering breath against the swell of her breast as Clara ran her fingers through his hair.

The Doctor settled on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows as he kissed her deeply. Clara's hands slipped under the hem of his t-shirt and traced lazy circles against his skin, and she moaned softly against his lips when his hips bucked against hers.

Their bedroom door opened and the two gasped and pulled away from each other as a very naked Rory walked into the room.

"Rory!" the Doctor cried, gaping at the man.

Clara yelped in alarm and clung to the Doctor as Rory started pulling the comforter off their bed.

"Rory, what are you doing?!" the Doctor asked.

"Shh, it's alright. Go back to sleep," Rory insisted as he wrapped the comforter around himself like a poncho. "Shh."

He turned, walked out the door, and shut it behind him. The Doctor and Clara continued to stare at the door in shock as they listened to Rory's footsteps shuffling down the hallway until they heard Amy and Rory's bedroom door close.

Clara met the Doctor's eyes and then the two of them started bursting with hesitant laughter.

"Was he… Was he sleepwalking?" Clara asked.

"I really hope so."

"He was naked."

The Doctor grimaced. "I know."

"Do you think we'll get our comforter back?"

"I don't think I want it now I've seen where it's been."

Clara shut her eyes and laughed silently. The Doctor smiled down at her and wished they hadn't been interrupted, but couldn't help but join her in laughing at the odd occurrence. He kissed her briefly before rising from the bed and puttering about the dark room in search of the spare blankets Rory had pointed out to him when they first arrived. He then climbed back into bed with Clara and draped the blankets over their bodies as they curled into each other.

"I'll put up a bigger fight if he comes back."

"Good."

Later that morning, Amy awoke to find their blue comforter draped across the end of their bed and her naked husband sleeping soundly beside her.

"Rory? Isn't that the comforter from the Doctor and Clara's bed?"

"Hmm?" he replied groggily as he cracked his eyes open and sat up.

When he saw the comforter his eyes grew round and he muttered a horrified "Oh my god" that prompted Amy to groan and drop her face in her hands with embarrassment.

"Not again, Rory!"


	5. Part V

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay! You may have noticed I got caught attacked by a plot bunny for another fic (thanks to moviegal102, you naughty vixen) but this story is still chugging along!

Speaking of moviegal102, many thanks to her for reviewing this messy fanfic! If you see any remaining mistakes, please remember that I force her to read these late at night when she's on cough medicine, so it's not her fault! hehe

Also, a bit of an announcement! This won't be my only return to the IT verse (it's official!), so expect further sequels after this ones finished! :)

* * *

**Part V**

"Aww! Come on out, Rory!" Clara called gaily from her spot next to the tree, where she, Amy, and the Doctor waited like eager children to open their Christmas presents.

Rory groaned loudly from his and Amy's bedroom and the Doctor chuckled. Amy rolled her eyes and stood, but before she could storm towards his direction, Rory emerged—fully dressed—into the living room.

"Wow!" the Doctor called, grinning broadly. "Nice Christmas jammies." He leaned towards Clara and muttered loudly, "Better than what he had on last night."

She swatted the Doctor's shoulder and bit back a smile while Rory attempted to duck back towards the bedroom. Amy grabbed her husband's shoulders and redirected him towards the Christmas tree in the living room where she reminded him that it was Christmas and that they've all seen each other naked at one point or another.

"Um… 'cept for me," Clara pointed out, raising her hand.

"Just you wait, Clara," Amy said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Just you wait."

Clara's eyes went round and she leaned towards the Doctor. "Do I need to start locking the bathroom door?"

"I'd advise it."

"So… so sorry, again," Rory muttered, eyes averted and cheeks bright red with embarrassment.

The Doctor ruffled his hair playfully and then they all had a laugh about an incident at one of their mates' birthday parties that apparently featured the Doctor in his birthday suit.

"How much had you had to drink?" Clara asked.

"I wasn't drunk!" he insisted, and she decided not to ask further questions. They were rather vague with the details anyway.

Amy made them all piping hot mugs of cocoa with little marshmallows shaped like snowmen sprinkled on top, dolloping in a few extra for the Doctor when he gleefully requested. Clara cradled her mug to her chest while Amy and Rory started doling out everyone's gifts.

"Wow, there were half this many under the tree last night," Rory observed with confusion as he continued to find more and more gifts under the tree. He had to really duck down on all fours to reach one that had been shoved in the back corner, and the Doctor saw this as an opportunity to smack him lightly on the bum.

Rory flinched with surprised and knocked into the bottom of the tree. The lights flickered, the ornaments jangled, and Clara gasped in horror as the entire thing threatened to topple over on top of her, then sighed with relief when it remained upright. Rory scrambled out from under the tree and shouted at Amy for nearly ruining Christmas, but instead of correcting him, Amy grinned behind her mug of cocoa and said, "It wasn't me! It was Clara!"

Clara grinned at Amy, jaw dropping at the accusation. "Well, after last night's show, how could I resist?"

They all chuckled, save for Rory, and Clara felt compelled to pat him on the shoulder and insist that the first Christmas gift be that they stop teasing him about his sleepwalking incident from the night before. Rory looked like he would burst into tears with gratitude.

"Doctor, more than half of these _have_ to be from you," Amy said as she took stock of all of the presents scattered around them. "Where did they all come from?"

"You did see all the bags we arrived with?" Clara replied. "He thinks he's bloody Father Christmas."

"It's _Christmas_!" the Doctor pointed out with a great wave of his hands. "You're supposed to give your mates gifts."

"Yeah, well now I feel bad 'cause I only got you the one," Amy said with a light frown.

"If you want, I can take some of yours back…" the Doctor began, reaching forward for a square box wrapped in blue paper.

Amy snatched it away from him and cradled it to her chest. "No, no… Wouldn't want to spoil the holiday."

"OK, who first?" Rory asked once they all had their own gifts neatly placed in front of them.

The Doctor met Amy's eyes and a silent battle was waged. Things got really intense when the Doctor's jaw twitched, and then they both simultaneously started tearing into the nearest gift they could get their hands on.

"Right—Anarchy it is, then," Rory said before peeling the wrapping off one of his own gifts.

The Doctor and Amy both loudly announced what was beneath the wrapping for each gift they received. So far Amy had gotten a lot of books, gift cards, and DVDs for movies Clara hadn't even heard of. The Doctor opened a box full of hand-knit hats and socks that Amy had made him (one of which he immediately stretched over his hair with a gleeful giggle), four more boxes of jammie dodgers ("We saw that you already ate all the ones from the cupboard," Rory said), and then Clara's gift.

"Wait!" she cried, stilling his hand as he went to tear the wrapping. "You all have to open the ones I got you at the same time."

"Ooh," Amy said. "Maybe she got us matching undies?"

"Well, she knows Rory's size now," the Doctor muttered with a grin.

Clara smacked him on the back of the head and winked at Rory, who nodded in appreciation of her gesture of solidarity. She then nibbled on her thumbnail as the other three tore into the red wrapping paper, smiling nervously as they each looked at the framed photographs in their hands.

She had given them framed copies of one of the photos she'd taken of the trio when they'd gone skating in Central Park. It was a beautiful shot in which they were all genuinely smiling, although Amy's smile looked a little pained since the Doctor—who wasn't the most stable on the ice—had his arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders for support.

"I know you and Rory have two of the same picture, but I figured you could put yours on your desk when you get that promotion you're wanting," Clara said to Amy, who ten crawled across the pile of discarded wrapping paper between them to give her a big hug.

When Amy pulled away, the Doctor wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her firmly to his side so he could plant a big wet kiss on her cheek. Clara laughed a little at herself when she felt her cheeks turning pink and grinned up at him.

"Thanks, love," he said.

"You're welcome."

"Ooh, open mine!" he said enthusiastically, pushing a small box wrapped in blue paper towards her.

"Oh," Rory said. "Shouldn't we wait 'til—"

Amy silenced Rory with a smack to his chest and Clara frowned at them in confusion before flashing the Doctor a grin and peeling back the corner of wrapping paper. Once she had one edge opened, she let the small box inside fall into the palm of her hand and her eyes widened at the velvety texture.

"Ooh," she said playfully, even though her heart was thudding desperately in her chest. "Jewellery."

She felt like everyone in the room was holding their breath until she snapped open the lid and spied a beautiful pair of gold and diamond earrings resting on a velvety cushion.

"They're beautiful," she said with a delighted gasp.

He beamed at her. "Merry Christmas, love."

"Merry Christmas," she replied in an equally gooey tone, leaning in to kiss his cheek and then giggling with surprise when he turned for a peck on the lips. She turned the box around so that Rory and Amy could see the earrings and they both seemed to struggle with feigning their appreciation.

"Pretty," Rory said with a light nod.

Amy stared quizzically at the Doctor, who appeared oblivious to the tension that had arisen when the jewellery box had fallen into Clara's hand. Clara herself felt an odd mixture of disappointment and relief. She had partly expected to find a ring inside that box, but she was grateful that the Doctor hadn't chosen to propose in front of his friends on Christmas day when they were wearing pyjamas and he had a knit cap fluffing his hair over his ears. Of course later, when she was helping Amy prepare Christmas dinner in the kitchen, she mused that that actually might have been the perfect moment.

"They're really lovely," Amy said, pushing back Clara's hair to get a better look at the earrings. "They suit you."

"Thanks," she said, ducking her head with a laugh as she twisted the back of one of the earrings nervously. "They're just so nice, and… I got him a framed photo I took with my phone."

Amy, who had bent forward to put a pan of roast potatoes in the oven, paused to shoot Clara a look. "That was a _lovely_ gift," she insisted. "Don't feel bad because he gets you fancy things—that's what he does. Especially when he's in love."

Clara fiddled with the ends of her hair and grinned like an idiot while Amy closed the oven door and checked on the gravy. It wasn't like she was oblivious to the fact that the Doctor was in love with her, but it was always nice to hear someone say it.

"Besides, he has excellent taste in jewellery. He gave me this for my birthday one year," she said, pulling at a gold chain with a red apple charm with her thumb to show Clara. "I wear it practically every day."

"It is lovely," Clara agreed, glancing towards the living room where Rory and the Doctor were stuffing discarded wrapping paper into a trash bag. They had turned into a makeshift game of basketball, at which the Doctor was performing poorly. She felt herself grinning foolishly again as she watched them laugh. "He's a good one, isn't he?"

"Clara!" Amy said with a gasp. "Rory is _my _husband."

She turned to Amy. "You all _really_ need to stop making the same jokes."

Amy giggled impishly and then asked Clara to check the sauce bubbling on the stove while she saw to the pies.

An hour later, they were all sat at the kitchen table with heaping piles of food on their plates that put an end to any conversation as they filled their mouths. Rory took it upon himself to put on some old Christmas music to fill the silence, and they all smiled at each other as they enjoyed the moment. Clara glanced at the Doctor, grinned at her around a mouthful of food, and thought about how hesitantly he'd smiled on Christmas morning at her father's house last year. She then remembered that he'd spent several Christmases before that on his own watching old Christmas movies in his flat, and she found herself tearing up now that she knew what it was like to see him properly happy. She dropped her fork on her plate and wrapped her arms around his neck in a rush of emotion. The Doctor chuckled with surprise and wrapped an arm around her waist while joking about how she'd nearly made him choke on a potato.

"Alright there?" he asked with a grin when she pulled away.

Clara could only nod as she held back tears. She felt so silly, but she felt like the greatest gift of all was seeing him so relaxed and happy. She kissed him on the cheek before smiling bashfully at Amy and Rory and tucking back into her food.

After they'd cleared their plates, they pulled Christmas crackers and argued over who had to wear the yellow crown (Rory accepted it happily since he argued it was the most similar to gold). Clara let Amy have the red crown while she and the Doctor sported the green ones. They each took turns reading the jokes inside, all of which made the Doctor chuckle until he snorted. The boys then cleaned up while Amy and Clara stretched out on the sofa with their hands on their full bellies.

"God, I look pregnant," Clara muttered, pushing out her belly to emphasise her post-dinner fullness.

Amy leaned towards her with a frown and whispered. "Are you?"

"_No_," Clara replied with a little laugh, leaning back slightly. Amy had sounded so serious. "Are _you_?"

Amy smiled tightly. "Ha—Nope."

Clara's frown deepened when she noticed something sad in Amy's eyes, but she knew better than to ask why. She had a sinking feeling that she'd already guessed.

"Anyone want to watch a movie?" Rory asked as he shut the door to the dishwasher.

"Ooh, yes please! Just not the one with Cameron Diaz, please," the Doctor said with a sneer.

"You don't like The Holiday?" Amy said. "Shocker."

"No, he just doesn't like Cameron Diaz," Clara clarified.

"She overacts," he insisted as he wrapped another plate of leftover food in plastic wrap and placed it in the fridge.

"Well, then we definitely shouldn't watch _Home Alone_, then," said Clara.

"Oh," the Doctor said dejectedly. "But I _like_ that one."

Amy sighed, smiling. "Rory, you pick one."

"_It's a Wonderful Life,_" he supplied, not even pausing to think it over.

Amy groaned. "I knew it!"

"It's my _favourite_ Christmas movie!" he replied. "And you like it too!"

"Yes, you're just _so_ predictable!" Amy teased while she searched the shelves of DVDs.

Clara scooted to the edge of the sofa to make room for the Doctor when he joined them in the lounge. "I've never seen it."

They all three stared at her in shock.

"You've never seen _It's a Wonderful Life_?" Rory asked, not blinking.

"Yeah, that's what I said," she replied with a nervous laugh, frowning at the three sets of eyes on her.

She understood why as the movie progressed. Clara didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she was crying by asking for the box of tissues, but she was about to have to when the Doctor rubbed the back of his finger across her wet cheek. He smiled at her tear-streaked face ands he laughed lightly in embarrassment, rubbing her face with the sleeves of her shirt as the Doctor wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. They watched the rest of the movie that way, her cheek pressed nestled against his collar while he lightly stroked her hair. When the credits rolled, Clara sat up and was surprised to find Rory snoring against Amy's chest, his torso draped over hers like a large cat taking a nap.

"When did that happen?" she asked with a chuckle.

Amy gave an annoyed wave of her hands from the corner of the sofa, into which her body had sunk under the weight of her husband.

"Could someone make me a cocoa?" she asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

Clara offered to do it since the Doctor disappeared into the loo. After putting the kettle on, Clara went into the guest bedroom to fetch her phone and see if she'd missed any more calls from her family back home. She had two texts from some girls she'd gone to uni with, both those sort of group texts wishing everyone a Merry Christmas with all those little emoticons, and as she was looking down at them on her way out of the bedroom, she felt two arms snake around her waist and looked up just in time to see the Doctor lowering his face to hers. Clara placed her hands on his chest and smiled into the kiss, which deepened considerably when he pressed his hand into the small of her back and nibbled her lower lip.

"Ha," she laughed, her voice ten pitches higher than normal when she pulled away. "What was that for?"

"Just following the rules," he said with a grin.

The Doctor nodded towards the ceiling and Clara followed his gaze to where a sprig of mistletoe dangled from the light fixture above their heads. "How long has that been there?" she asked.

"I don't know. Do you think it's been there for days and we've passed under it several times without kissing?"

His nose brushed against hers and she chuckled at him. "Are you saying we retroactively owe it to the mistletoe to have another snog?"

He nodded before kissing her again, and Clara released an involuntary sigh against his lips that was almost embarrassingly eager. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her ever so slightly off her feet, his body firmly pressing into her as his tongue skated across hers. She felt his throaty hum of pleasure vibrate through her and with a gasp, Clara came broke the surface of the water and came up for air.

"Right…" she said breathlessly, stroking his face as she attempted to peal herself away with him. It wasn't easy. "I don't think we owe the mistletoe quite all _that_."

He laughed. "It _is_ American mistletoe; it might have different standards."

Clara chuckled and he tucked her hair behind her ear, thumb brushing against the diamond earing there. He smiled at her. "These look really nice on you."

"You've got good taste." She licked her lips nervously. "Although you almost had me thinking something else was in that box," she admitted, heart fluttering.

"_Did_ you?" he replied with playful curiosity, hands still resting at the sides of her face. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. "Hmm. That's interesting."

Clara opened her mouth to accuse him of being a tease, but the whistling kettle interrupted her. "Ah. Amy's cocoa." She had almost forgotten.

She gave the Doctor a little smile before extracting herself from his arms to walk into the kitchen, where she emptied a pack of cocoa into a yellow mug and poured the steaming water inside. The Doctor was at her side in the blink of an eye, pulling another mug from the cupboard and packet of cocoa for himself. Clara felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end in response to his proximity, her heartbeat escalating as she thought of their interrupted conversation.

His casual, teasing response to the implication that she had suspected a proposal that morning made Clara wonder if it an actual possibility. They hadn't broached the subject of marriage yet, oddly enough, but she supposed moving in together was just a step shy of matrimony. Nina was constantly asking when the wedding was going to be, often in a joking manner, but Nina rarely ever joked about things that didn't have a little bit of truth behind them.

Clara's heightened reaction to his nearness was also due to the kiss they'd shared in the hallway, which had reminded them both in screaming tones that they hadn't been together since their arrival in New York. They had gotten close until Rory's little episode of sleepwalking interrupted them the night before, but Clara found the idea of having sex while a guest in someone else's home a little… well, icky. Perhaps she was a bit of a prude in that respect, but Rory did nothing to calm her anxiety about someone walking in on them.

Then again, Rory had been naked… something Clara had tried not to think about all day, but now she realized that unless he normally slept in the buff, the only logical reason for him to not be wearing clothes in the middle of the night was because he and Amy had engaged in certain late-night activities themselves, and if that were the case, perhaps she ought not feel so awkward about engaging in some of her own.

Then again, she was applying logic to a situation where a naked man came into their bedroom and stole their comforter while sleeping. Perhaps she should stop thinking about the matter altogether.

Rory awoke from his nap and insisted they all play charades, something his family used to always do at Christmas. It was some of the most fun they'd had on the trip yet, and Clara was rather delighted that her brilliant and talented boyfriend was actually rubbish at the game… even though that mean that Amy and Rory won every round and bragged about their victory all evening.

Clara was exhausted by the time they all went to bed, but as she lay facing the Doctor, their fingers entwined over the comforter and their gazes locked together, she found that sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" She didn't know why she whispered.

"Yes," he replied in an equally soft tone. "What about you?"

Their fingers moved together in the darkness, locking and unlocking and flexing against each other as she smiled at him. "Yeah. It's been a great Christmas."

He leaned forward and kissed her, once again eliciting an immediate gasp of pleasure from her lips that made him chuckle deeply in satisfaction. Clara felt like her every nerve ending had suddenly been lit on fire and she pulled him closer, the bed creaking softly beneath them as their bodies shifted together.

"I love you," he gasped reverently against her lips before trailing kisses down her neck and shoulder. Clara's breathing grew heavy and she closed her eyes, her fingers tangling in his hair and slipping beneath the collar of his t-shirt.

His fingers slipped the hem of her shirt up to her chin and Clara stifled a moan as his warm lips trailed across her breasts. She was writhing beneath him, her fingers clenched around thick strands of his hair as his lips puckered against her skin. Her back arched off the mattress and Clara made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh at the tickling sensation. Growing impatient, she pushed at his shoulders and they both sat up. Clara tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, helping the Doctor do the same with his and then they wrapped themselves in each other's arms, breathing hot air into each other's lips until Clara froze and pulled away with him.

"Should we… the door?"

The Doctor chuckled breathlessly and then kissed her neck. "I locked it before turning out the light."

Clara's responding laugh turned into a high-pitched sigh as the Doctor teeth tugged the skin at her neck. She grabbed his shoulders and turned their bodies so that he was lying on his back and she straddled his waist, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she grinned down at him.

"Hey," she said softly.

He ran his hands up and down her back and chuckled at her. "Hey."

Clara's gaze softened as she stroked the sides of his face, her fingers trailing down to tap playfully at his chin before she placed her palms against his chest. "I love you, too."


End file.
